


Nova

by Hopetohell



Category: Sand Castle (2017)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Reader-Insert, Sex Toys, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-11 22:54:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29875257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hopetohell/pseuds/Hopetohell
Summary: The Captain faces a new challenge:toys.
Relationships: Captain Syverson/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Nova

_Sure you can handle it?_

_Course I can. It’s like anything else. Decide on a goal, identify the steps you need to get there. How to overcome the challenges. And I’ve been practicing._

_Practicing, mmm? Huh. Good boy._

The toy’s got ridges, a knot, a nice wide base and he turns it over in his hands, assessing. Admiring the heft of it, the thickness. Licking his lips just a little as he runs a thumb over the knot near the base. _Sy, sweetheart, I wanna see you take it to the hilt. Can you do that for me? Peel yourself open and feel it so fucking far inside you can almost taste it? You’re so gorgeous when you let yourself go for me; I want to see you fall all to pieces._

And yeah, the praise is still hard for him; it washes up against him like a river running over stone but sooner or later it wears him down, carves him open, and that shell of his is thinning; already the warm beating heart of him pulses so close to the surface; already there’s that half smile when he hears it. 

And it might’ve taken him a while to think it over, to come to the conclusion that yeah, he really wanted all of this, but _fuck_ if it wasn’t worth the wait because all that mountainous thick muscle is at your mercy; that fine sharp mind is attuned so closely to your every movement and your every need. And when you say _show me_ there’s just that half second of hesitation before he strips off, before he folds his clothes neatly and sets them aside, before he stands with his hands clasped loosely behind and waits on your word. 

_Elbows and knees, gorgeous. Open up, I wanna see inside you._ And listen. Listen. _Christ_ would you look at that, at the way he angles his body to show you everything, at the way he slicks his fingers up so nice, at the way a little shiver ripples down his spine when he slides the first one in. 

And it’s just too tempting to drape yourself across his back, to join your hands together and slide a slick and shining finger in beside his. He’s so fucking hot inside, hot and tight like he could crush your finger and burn it to ash, and it’s you, it’s _you_ inside him and when he feels the base of your finger brushing up against him he groans, low and deep. 

_That toy’s gonna be a lot to take. How many fingers do you think you need? Four? Yeah, okay._ He’s got the thick fingers but you have the angle and together you work him open, slip-sliding against one another, knuckles catching at his rim and making him bite back a whine— _hey. Let me hear you. Wanna know when it’s good—_ reaching your other hand around to fist at his cock, feeling it slick with precome and lube, to feel it jump in your hand when your fingers move in him just right. And when he’s ready, when you withdraw your fingers and still see that gape, when you can catch that barest glimpse into the deepest part of him—

_Okay, Captain. At your leisure._

Sy makes a show of it; he goes slow because he’s learning the value of this act, of the pleasure of taking his time to feel all of it. He’s all white-knuckle anticipation, all tension, till the toy’s head breaches his hole and slips inside. The long line of his spine is slick with sweat as he drops himself onto the side of his face and the front of his shoulder, getting both hands up and back, gripping tight. 

_Spread your knees a little. There. One of these days I’m gonna strap in and fuck you good and hard like you deserve. But today— today I want to watch you._

And what a sight he is, shaking and jerking with every ridge that disappears inside him til at last he’s at the knot— at that thick bulb of silicone that’s gonna be a beast to get past. But he breathes in and buckles down, so slick with sweat and lube that he has to take a moment to adjust his grip, and with a thick wet gasp he slips the last of it inside. 

_Talk to me,_ as you’re tapping on the flared base. _Tell me all about it_ as you’re twisting the toy to rotate it just a little, to make him feel every last inch of it inside him. _You like being full? Like showing me how strong you are, how beautifully you take it?_ His hands have dropped away, giving control of the toy over to you; he has one hand around his cock and the other fisted in the sheets, fingers clenching and grasping. 

_Darlin, I— I can’t move, can’t think. Feels like I’ll fall apart. That last part, Christ. It’s like being pinned down from the inside, like I’m filled up and held open and—_

_And you’ll be so loose for me after. I’ll be able to pet your insides with no trouble at all. I’ll just slide my fingers into you nice and easy to feel you still trying to clench down, still trying to close, but for all your strength you’ll still be lax and open for me for a while, won’t you? Do you like that, feeling the evidence of all your hard work?_

Because it _is_ work, isn’t it; it’s the culmination of talk and trial and error, of him opening your ass so carefully to see your pleasure, of the way he fucked inside with his cock playing counterpoint to the toy buzzing and pulsing in your cunt. It’s the overcoming of the thoughts that first he _couldn’t_ and then he _shouldn’t._ It’s the way he saw that it was good, and that maybe, maybe he could have it too. 

And Sy is climbing higher up his tightly-wound coil of pleasure; he is so close he’s shaking, sweating and panting with a dark spot forming on the sheet where he can’t help but drool, and his hand is flying on his cock; he is helpless as you press the toy deeper and deeper, til the base is flush against his skin, and with just the slightest shift you find the perfect angle: the one that makes him howl with the pressure against that spot. And 

_That’s good, that’s good, let go. Feel it all. I’ve got you._

He comes flying apart; semen hits him sticky under the chin with the force of it. It’s smeared all in his beard when he collapses to the mattress, and are those _tears?_ They are, but _darlin, I’m alright. It’s just so much._ And he shudders through the letting-go; all the vast thick bulk of him is vibrating with it as you remove the toy and press a kiss to his twitching hole, as you slither up to hold him from behind and stroke the fine fuzz of his cropped hair. 

And as you hold him, Sy’s shivers give way to a soft hum, to contentment that rumbles up from somewhere deep in his chest. He’s slow and lazy with it but still he turns to nuzzle at your cheek and raise a brow in question; he asks _can I_ and he slips inside, slow like syrup with his thumb steady on your clit. He won’t get off again like this, but _you_ will; he will breathe hard through the feel of your rippling flesh and he will be as close to you as it is possible to get. And like this, connected, you will drift together into sleep.


End file.
